


Spirits Open To A Thrust of Grace

by leiascully



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angel/Demon Sex, Aziraphale's Miracle Bed, Bossy Aziraphale, Canon Compliant, Celestial Bodies Can Have Any Genitals They Want, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 21:44:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19934974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: "I thought we might indulge ourselves in some of the, ah, pleasures of the flesh.  If you were interested."





	Spirits Open To A Thrust of Grace

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: post-series  
> A/N: I listened to "Lovers In A Dangerous Time" a lot today.  
> Disclaimer: No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

After the end of the world, there was cake and champagne. They lingered at the Ritz until the light outside the windows was blue with dusk and the staff had begun cleaning up around them. How lovely, Aziraphale thought, walking through the park with Crowley. How blithe to be walking in the balmy air, filled with bubbles and good will and the quiet contentment that came after a good meal. The breeze that ruffled his hair smelled uncharacteristically sweet for London, but then, not all miracles were celestial in nature. Sometimes, Aziraphale had decided, and not often, but every once in a while, nice things happened, like a breeze and champagne and the company one liked best of all and a sky beginning to be pricked with stars.

"I would have missed all of this, if the apocalypse had happened," Aziraphale said. He clasped his hands behind his back, strolling along at Crowley's side. Crowley wasn't strolling, exactly, but he was sauntering in a very satisfied way.

"Mm," Crowley said. "My side would have won, of course."

"I thought you didn't have a side anymore," Aziraphale said.

"Old habits," Crowley said, ducking his head toward Aziraphale. "Mostly I wanted to say it before you said it. Your side wouldn't have won. Too self-righteous."

"If it were up to me, my side wouldn't have been fighting a war at all," Aziraphale said.

"That's probably why you got demoted," Crowley told him.

"Yes, well," Aziraphale said. "I prefer being a Principality anyway. Fewer gates."

"More books," Crowley offered.

"Precisely," Aziraphale said. 

"Angel," Crowley said in a soft lilt.

"Yes, my dear?" Aziraphale said, looking at him. Crowley's face looked serious behind the sunglasses. 

"What happens now?"

"I suppose we go on living," Aziraphale said. "I'm sure Heaven and Hell will make the occasional demand, but I think we put a bit of the fear of, well, somebody into them. Oh, the look on Beelzebub's face when I started splashing around in that bath."

"Angel," Crowley said in the same gentle voice.

"Yes, my dear?" Aziraphale repeated.

"What happens with us?"

"Oh!" Aziraphale said. "Well, I think we can continue our Arrangement. It's worked surprisingly well, hasn't it?"

"Has it?" Crowley asked. He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared up at the sky. 

"I think so," Aziraphale said. He paused. "Although." 

"Although?" Crowley said. 

"It seems to me that there might be something," Aziraphale said and let his voice trail off. He moved closer to Crowley and gazed upward. Up close, he could smell the heat on Crowley's skin. It might have been brimstone once, but it was woodsmoke now, or the way a match smelled as it was struck, at least to Aziraphale's senses. A comforting scent. He inhaled deeply. "The stars are lovely tonight, aren't they?"

"Glad you like them," Crowley said. "Some of my best work from Before, you know."

"I am rather glad you didn't go to Alpha Centauri," Aziraphale said. "Whichever one it is."

"Oh, well," Crowley said. "It's really two stars, you see. More real estate than I needed." He rocked back onto his heels and forward again. "Anyway, I was lying. I would have thought about you. It would be been dead boring without you."

"Would it?" Aziraphale said.

"Yeah," Crowley said. "You're my best friend." He was still staring up at the stars. A meteor fell, its reflection streaking across the lens of his glasses. 

"Am I," Aziraphale said. "I did think I had an inkling that I might be slightly more than that?" 

"Hmm?" Crowley said. "Oh, possibly. Very slightly more than that."

"Because at the bandstand, you know, when I told you we weren't friends," Aziraphale said, "what I meant was that, in my mind, we've been much more than that for rather a long time. I'm sorry I didn't articulate it that way at the time, but I was under stress."

"How long would you say that you and I might have been more than friends?" Crowley asked. "Just out of curiosity."

"I'm afraid I've lost track," Aziraphale said. "Six thousand years, after all. The timeline is a bit muddied."

"I know exactly when," Crowley said. "But it's all right if you don't, angel."

"Ah, well, when, then?" Aziraphale asked.

"Always," Crowley said easily. "Since the minute you told me you gave away that flaming sword. Came in handy, by the way, so it seems you did make the right decision."

"Oh," Aziraphale said, beaming a little at the praise. He wondered if his heart was actually glowing. This body was new, and who knew what Adam believed ought be included as a feature of one's earthly vessel. It certainly felt as if it were glowing. "Yes, well. All's well that ends well."

"It isn't Hamlet, but it'll do," Crowley said, smiling up at the sky. 

"It's just that I hadn't let myself consider it," Aziraphale said. "You were the Enemy. I thought that meant something, at the time. Now it turns out that everyone was secretly working together."

"It's all right," Crowley said, finally looking at him. "I wasn't trying to show you up, angel. It's easy to give in to temptation when you're in my line of work. Yours, not so much."

Aziraphale kissed him. It was easy, so much easier than he'd ever imagined, to tip forward and let his mouth meet Crowley's. Crowley made a little 'mmph!' of surprise and then kissed him back, his nose bumping against Aziraphale's as they sorted themselves out. His lips were soft and warm and eager and Aziraphale savored the contact. A shiver of heat ran through him. He reached up and cupped one hand around the back of Crowley's head, the other resting against Crowley's neck where he could feel the hot pulse accelerating. Crowley's hands were on Aziraphale's hips, sliding in under his jacket. All sorts of delicious things were happening in Aziraphale's body, especially as his tongue slipped past his lips and slid against Crowley's. His heart thudded a joyous rhythm. His head spun. The little breeze wafted past them and blushed. 

Eventually Aziraphale drew away, just to steady himself. He gazed at Crowley, who was smiling smugly, his lips pinker and puffier than usual. Aziraphale was certain he was looking rather disheveled himself. Crowley wore it better - it looked more intentional on him - but Aziraphale didn't bother to straighten his waistcoat or tug at his lapels. That would require taking his hands off Crowley, and he really preferred, all other things being equal, to be touching Crowley as much as possible.

"Really always?" he asked. His voice quavered just a little. He'd have to work on that.

"Really truly," Crowley promised. "I haven't lied to you in millennia, angel. I don't think I'll pick up the habit now."

"See that you don't," Aziraphale said primly. "There are certain things I'd like to do with you, and I suspect that honesty is going to be an important component." He was breathing faster than normal. He knew that strictly speaking, he didn't need to breathe, but he'd also found that humans would notice if he didn't. It was a habit by now, inhabiting the old (well, new) corpus, and besides, scent was a useful sense. 

"Certain things, you say," Crowley mused. "What sort of things, angel? Need me to be frank about preferring mini-marshmallows in my cocoa?"

"That too," Aziraphale said. "But I thought we might indulge ourselves in some of the, ah, pleasures of the flesh. If you were interested."

"How carnal of you," Crowley teased. "And here I thought temptation was my department."

"If you're not interested, that's perfectly all right," Aziraphale said quickly. "But I've found they can be quite enjoyable, and I'd like to enjoy them with you."

Crowley slipped his arm around Aziraphale's shoulders and they began to walk again, tilted vaguely in the direction of the bookshop. "I'd say I was surprised that you've been having sex, but I know how much you enjoy an indulgence."

"You slept for a hundred years once," Aziraphale said. "I had to find something to occupy my time." 

"A quick fuck, a crème brûlée," Crowley said. "A lively gavotte. Close enough, really."

"If you must know, I wanted to know what all the fuss was about," Aziraphale said.

"And did you find out?" Crowley prompted.

"I'd rather show you," Aziraphale said. 

"I thought I was the one going too fast for you," Crowley mused. "Now it seems we've matched speed."

"It seems I've caught up," Aziraphale said. "Something about the possibility of the world ending, never seeing you again, never touching you with my own hands, et cetera was rather motivational, as it turns out."

"It would have been awkward to indulge you if you were still sharing Madame Tracy's body," Crowley said. " Might have given her a thrill, but it would have thrown me off my rhythm if you'd kept swapping control. I prefer to know who I'm sleeping with at any given time."

"That will be me," Aziraphale said possessively. "Tonight and forever, I hope. I shan't let anyone else have you. You and I belong to each other now."

"Mm, I like that," Crowley said, giving Aziraphale a quick kiss on the cheek. "Angel in charge."

"That's right," Aziraphale said. They were nearly to the bookshop. He reached into his coat pocket for keys he didn't really need, but they made a nice jingling sound as he pulled them out. "I thought it might be a nice change to give the orders instead of taking them."

"Feel free to take all of your job dissatisfaction out on me," Crowley suggested, a warm sort of shiver in his voice. "Don't hold back. Gosh, wouldn't Heaven hate it if you just absolutely wore me out, put your oh so holy mouth all over me, that sort of thing."

Aziraphale laughed as they walked up the steps. "My dear, I was already planning on doing all of that, and quite frankly, it has nothing to do with what anybody else wants."

"You know, lust is a sin, angel," Crowley said in a low husky voice. 

"Then we'll have to make love," Aziraphale said, pushing Crowley's sunglasses up onto his head, and kissed Crowley, pressing him against the door of the bookshop. He poured all of his longing into the kiss, all of the astonishment and terror and awe that he'd felt nearly losing Crowley and then finding him again, all of the triumph of saving the world and falling in love. His soul, expanding past the limits of his body, brushed against Crowley's, an indescribable but unmistakable feeling. Crowley startled against him and then relaxed, reaching out with his own consciousness until their thoughts melded at the edges: hope, joy, desire, and love, oh, so much love that Aziraphale, for a moment, felt like he was in Heaven again, in the old days, when everything shone and pain didn't exist yet. It nearly hurt to break the kiss, but their souls were still mingled, bleeding into each other like ink into water. Aziraphale could feel Crowley's passion swirling into his until they were one thing, inextricable.

"Do you even have a bed?" Crowley asked, gasping a little.

Aziraphale concentrated and felt things shifting around in his flat above the shop. "I do now."

"Spending a miracle on seducing a demon?" Crowley asked, tracing the curve of Aziraphale's ear with one finger. "Won't that get you in trouble with upstairs?"

"I could call it a recruitment effort," Aziraphale said thoughtfully. "Or they could, to use that charming human phrase, go fuck themselves. Let Gabriel riddle his way through that one."

Crowley chuckled. "I always knew you were the bigger bastard of the both of us."

"I was provoked," Aziraphale said, but he couldn't help grinning. He leaned in to kiss Crowley again, running his hands down Crowley's sides. Crowley's body was lean and firm under his hands. Aziraphale could feel hunger building in him, a fire that blazed a little higher with each brush of Crowley's tongue, each gentle push of his hips against Aziraphale's. Aziraphale leaned in closer, kissing Crowley more and more deeply until he couldn't bear it any longer. He reached down to hitch Crowley up against him.

"Get the door, my dear?" he suggested against Crowley's lips. Crowley snapped his fingers and wrapped his legs around Aziraphale's hips. The doors opened and Aziraphale carried Crowley through the shop and up the stairs.

"Does this make me your blushing bride?" Crowley murmured, kissing Aziraphale's forehead and nipping at the top of his ear. 

"I was planning on making you blush," Aziraphale said. "The rest is up in the air, although you would look lovely in white lace. What sort of genitals would you prefer?"

Crowley shrugged. "We've got eternity, haven't we? Start with whatever you like."

"I'm more accustomed to a cock," Aziraphale said. "It was what people expected."

"Then I very much look forward to seeing your cock," Crowley murmured, rubbing his cheek against Aziraphale's on his way to kiss Aziraphale's neck. "And feeling and tasting and whatever else the evening entails."

"Ah," Aziraphale said, his just-manifested cock already hard and twitching at the heat in Crowley's words. "Excellent." He kissed Crowley, who wove his fingers through Aziraphale's hair and kissed back with a passion that threatened to stagger the both of them. Aziraphale pushed against the bedroom door and Crowley reached down and opened it, the two of them tumbling through the doorway and onto the bed, which filled a significant portion of the room. It was an enormous thing, piled high with pillows, the duvet snowy white and the sheets a tasteful dove grey, almost luminous in the lamplight. 

"Didn't do it by halves," Crowley observed, sinking into the covers. 

"I was hoping we'd be spending quite a bit of time here," Aziraphale said. "If one is going to spend a miracle, one might as well make it worthwhile."

"Is this because I was talking about marshmallows earlier?" Crowley asked, floundering out of the heap of the duvet to sprawl over Aziraphale.

"Quite possibly," Aziraphale admitted. 

Kissing while horizontal was even better than kissing standing up, because gravity helped keep Crowley pressed against him, and Aziraphale could run his hands all over Crowley and pull him down hard. The only dilemma was that it made it more difficult to undress each other, but Aziraphale persevered. He tugged at Crowley's narrow scarf first, feeling it slide out from between them, drawing it slowly around Crowley's neck until he could toss it away. He pushed Crowley's jacket off his shoulders until Crowley shrugged it off impatiently. He tugged Crowley's t-shirt up, up, up and over Crowley's head, kissing him until the last possible minute. 

"Sit up," Crowley said. "I can't possibly undo all these buttons lying on top of you. You wear entirely too many clothes, you know."

"It increases the anticipation," Aziraphale told him. 

"I think it's a defense mechanism," Crowley said, fingers nimbly unbuttoning Aziraphale's waistcoat. "You swaddled yourself in velvet and such so that you'd have something nice against your skin that wasn't me."

"Yes, well," Aziraphale said. "Naturally."

Crowley grinned. His golden eyes gleamed. "Next best thing, I imagine," he said. 

"Very distant next," Aziraphale said, and turned his attention fully to the task of getting them both naked. It would have been easy to miracle their clothes away, but the process was enjoyable all on its own. He undressed Crowley and Crowley undressed him and together they peeled away every layer that had kept them apart over the years until they were as bare as Adam and Eve had been in the Garden, before the Apple. In the lamplight, Crowley nearly had a halo, a faint aura the color of tarnished brass gleaming all around him. His soul, reaching out to Aziraphale's. Aziraphale could see his own soul when he put his hand on Crowley's chest, a pearlier glow outlining his fingers. Where they touched, the color swirled until everything was creamy gold. 

"Now that's a thing," Crowley said with interest. "Has that ever happened before?" 

"I've never done this before," Aziraphale said. "Not with one of our kind."

"Our kind don't do this much," Crowley said. "Not like this. The metaphysical bit, maybe, but not with actual bodies."

"Perhaps it's just us," Aziraphale said. The air shimmered gently around them. Aziraphale, watching the swirl of color, could feel Crowley's soul tangling with his. "Fascinating."

"Less thinking, more kissing," Crowley said, and leaned forward to make good on his words. Aziraphale let himself melt further into Crowley. Everywhere their bare skin touched, it felt like champagne bubbles. Aziraphale ran his hands over Crowley, pulling him closer. Crowley's back was smooth. He touched the places where the wings might emerge and Crowley shivered and groaned into his mouth. 

"Later," he said. "Not this time. Let this time be simple."

"All right," Aziraphale said. He pushed Crowley gently down into the covers. The duvet billowed up around them with a crisp puffing noise. "Lie back."

"And think of England?" Crowley teased. 

"My hope is that you won't be able to think at all," Aziraphale told him. "Much less likely to get you in trouble."

"I'm already in trouble," Crowley said happily.

Aziraphale nuzzled and licked his way down Crowley's body as Crowley's fingers tangled in his hair. He could feel little sparks of Crowley's pleasure at the edges of his own consciousness, some consequence of their metaphysical link. He lingered anywhere that seemed particularly sensitive: Crowley's nipples, a spot on his ribs, the tender crease of his elbow, the flat of his flank. Crowley shivered and moaned. 

"Angel, you have been practicing," he said. 

"I thought it best to be informed," Aziraphale said. "Just in case."

"You knew perfectly well all you had to do was crook your finger and I'd come panting after you," Crowley said. "You're a hedonist, is what you are. A fiend for pleasure. A glutton for earthly delights."

"Are you jealous, my dear?" Aziraphale asked. 

"Absolutely," Crowley said. "Of course I'm jealous. I've never gotten enough of your time or attention to satisfy me, not in six thousand years. I've been jealous of every morsel of cake and flute of champagne that made you flutter your lashes with ecstacy. I was once jealous of an oyster you were about to eat." 

"I'm terribly sorry," Aziraphale said sweetly. "Let me make it up to you by devoting every ounce of my attention to you." He punctuated the sentence with his tongue.

"Gah," said Crowley inarticulately. Aziraphale smirked and moved lower, kissing a trail down the crease of Crowley's thigh.

"Oh," he said. "I hadn't even asked what genitals you'd decided on for tonight. I was too occupied with the rest of you."

"Like you said," Crowley told him, "a cock was what people expected. I always fancied trying some of the other options." 

"Well, it's lovely," Aziraphale said. He slid further down and kissed Crowley's thighs, working his way up to the ruddy curls and the pink folds between them. Crowley sighed. 

"Absolutely, angel, take your time," he said. "Six thousand years clearly wasn't enough."

"Hush, or I'll go even slower," Aziraphale told him. "I want to savor you."

He nuzzled again at the crease of Crowley's thigh and tried his tongue there. Crowley jumped and hissed. 

"Too much?" Aziraphale asked.

"Keep going," Crowley said, and so Aziraphale did, pinning Crowley's hips to the bed when he got too twitchy. Crowley's skin tasted like salt and smoke and desire. Aziraphale could taste the yearning on it. Something else new, something celestial or occult or some combination thereof. He could taste triumph, too, and delight, and love, a whole new palette of flavors to roll over his tongue. 

Crowley jumped again when Aziraphale finally drew a fingertip over the soft mound between his legs. Aziraphale traced slow circles around the perimeter of Crowley's vulva before slowly, slowly easing along the line of Crowley's folds, not even pushing in. Crowley made a wordless sound.

"Was there something you wanted?" Aziraphale asked, all innocence.

"Angel, please," Crowley begged. 

"Please what?" Aziraphale prompted.

"Touch me," Crowley said, and it was almost a sob. Aziraphale let his finger slip between the folds. He groaned at the feel of the slick heat he found there, and his pleasure and Crowley's echoed back and forth between them as the air around them shimmered again. They stared at each other, astonished.

"That's a hell of a thing," Crowley said finally. "So to speak." 

"I'll just carry on, shall I," Aziraphale said, working his finger a little deeper. He grazed the bud of Crowley's clit and Crowley squeaked. A shock of pleasure burst through both of them.

"Oh fuck," gasped Crowley, and Aziraphale, greedy for more, pushed Crowley's legs apart and replaced his fingers with his tongue, licking up and down Crowley's folds. Crowley's pleasure was like fireworks going off in his brain, and the taste of him, oh, it was like the memory of a bonfire on the beach, brine and smoke. Aziraphale licked him clean and kept licking, flicking his tongue against Crowley's clit until Crowley's hips were rocking against his face. He could feel Crowley's pleasure building, his knees tensing against Aziraphale's shoulders. His cock was sending insistent little messages, but it could wait. Aziraphale wanted to feel Crowley come first. He hitched Crowley's hips closer and pushed his tongue into Crowley for a few quick thrusts before returning to Crowley's clit.

"Angel," Crowley said, sounding almost anguished, his fingers tugging at Aziraphale's hair. Aziraphale hummed in response, continuing his ministrations, and Crowley gasped, a high, aching sound. 

The air between them burst into sparkles and Crowley's back arched. He cried out, a sound of longing and redemption so poignant that Aziraphale's eyes prickled with tears. Aziraphale sprawled out next to Crowley and pulled him close, stroking Crowley's back. Slowly the shimmer sifted out of the air like glitter settling until their shared aura was just a pale gold gleam again. 

"You're perfectly all right, my dear," Aziraphale said in a soothing voice. "I'm right here with you." He kissed Crowley's forehead.

"I didn't expect that," Crowley said, sniffing just a bit. "Did you feel it? I thought you could."

"Every bit of it," Aziraphale said, resolutely ignoring the throb in his cock. "It was lovely. You were lovely."

"I was exquisite," Crowley said, sounding more like himself. 

"You certainly were," Aziraphale said. 

"I need you inside me," Crowley said. His golden eyes were intent. "I need to feel what you feel when you're inside me, and I need to feel it now, please."

"If you insist," Aziraphale said, his cock twitching at the thought. Crowley rolled onto his back, his legs spread, and drew Aziraphale along with him. Together they wrapped their fingers around Aziraphale's cock.

"Girthy," Crowley said approvingly.

"Thank you," Aziraphale said. "I didn't want to disappoint."

"Angel, you could never disappoint me," Crowley said in a soft voice, and together they guided Aziraphale into Crowley's cunt. Crowley was slick and hot and snug as Aziraphale sank into him, and he had to pause a moment, trembling, overwhelmed by the wash of sensation: his pleasure, Crowley's, and the amplification that seemed to occur when they were metaphysically linked along with the physical contact. He moved slowly in Crowley, his body shaking. Crowley murmured encouragement and stroked his face, tracing his cheekbones and lips and the line of his nose with such tenderness that Aziraphale was the one nearly weeping. He could feel the swell of Crowley's love for him and Crowley's satisfaction that at last, at last, he had Aziraphale just where he wanted him. In bed; in love; united in mind, body, and spirit.

Aziraphale wanted it to last forever, but it would have taken a miracle to grant him any kind of endurance, as overtaxed as he was by the sheer eroticism of sharing his pleasure with Crowley, and that didn't bear explaining on the paperwork. He thrust faster, rocking into Crowley, and Crowley murmured and spread his legs wider, wrapping them around Aziraphale's hips. Aziraphale sank deeper into Crowley's heat and rose higher and higher, pleasure like an updraft under his wings, pushing them both to impossible peaks.

"Let go," Crowley whispered, stroking Aziraphale's face. "We've come such a long way to be here. Let go." 

Aziraphale gasped and leaned down to kiss Crowley, trying to find the best leverage in the plush bed. Crowley arched up against him and found an angle that made them both groan. Aziraphale was half-certain the whole world was bucking in rhythm with his hips, or at least the whole flat, but Crowley kept taking him in and asking for more, moaning into Aziraphale's mouth. It was all wonder, all glory, as pure and radiant as the morning of Creation, and when Aziraphale came, he saw stars. Crowley's stars, he thought. A gift beyond compare.

They collapsed together into the heap of the duvet. Aziraphale, panting, rolled off Crowley but pulled him close. 

"That was something else," he gasped. 

"Yeah it was," Crowley said with satisfaction. "I knew talking you into bed would be worth it."

"I thought I talked you into bed," Aziraphale said through a mouthful of Crowley's hair.

"Demons always take credit for the best ideas," Crowley said. 

"I nearly thought my wings would come out," Aziraphale said. "Or that I might just abandon this body completely."

"Something to try for," Crowley teased. "The wings, not the discorporation. I'm fond of this body. I hope you hold onto it for at least a few millennia."

"For you, my dear, I'll make a special effort," Aziraphale said, kissing Crowley's cheek.

"She knew what She was doing when She made you," Crowley said fondly. "Love all the way through." 

"Oh, I don't know about that," Aziraphale said. "I've discovered a remarkable capacity to dislike certain individuals the last few weeks."

Crowley chuckled. "Trust me," he said, "You're the best of them."

"I won't argue," Aziraphale told him. 

Crowley sprawled across the bed. "Well, it's like I always say. Better to be effed than ineffable."

"Do you say that?" Aziraphale asked. "Perhaps you shouldn't."

Crowley laughed. "At least you have a few more options for stopping my mouth now." 

"Yes, I'm looking forward to it," Aziraphale said, kissing him lingeringly. He could feel his soul unraveling from Crowley's, sinking back into his body, but some thread of it stayed knotted firmly to Crowley's. Aziraphale suspected it would stay that way, tugging gently at him.

"Mmm," Crowley said appreciatively. "Angel. Would you like to sleep with me?"

"I do have this ridiculously large and comfortable bed now," Aziraphale said. "I believe I could be tempted."

"I tempt thee," Crowley said. "From the dunnest pall of hell and all that." He yawned until it looked like his face might split.

"There are times I don't understand how you manage your job at all," Aziraphale said. "Honestly."

"Mostly I let them tempt themselves," Crowley said. "I just offer opportunities. For example, when I offered to top up your champagne earlier, I knew you'd say yes and one thing might lead to another."

"I think what you meant to say was that you walked up to me on the wall of the Garden and hoped one thing might lead to another," Aziraphale corrected.

"That too," Crowley said. "What can I say? You looked like an angel in need of an opportunity."

"An opportunity for what, exactly?" Aziraphale asked.

"Love," Crowley said. "Destiny. Effing with the ineffable plan."

"That joke is never going to work the way you want it to," Aziraphale told him.

"Who says it doesn't?" Crowley asked. "I'm a demon. I torment. It's my nature."

"Get up," Aziraphale said.

"I was only teasing," Crowley said.

"If we're going to sleep in this bed, we're going to do it properly," Aziraphale said. "Not just kip on top of the covers." 

Crowley grumbled but stirred. Aziraphale flipped back the duvet and they slid between the sheets.

"This bed," Crowley pronounced, "would be a miracle even if it weren't one already."

"It is nice," Aziraphale said, pulling Crowley close. "Now teach me what one does in it."

"Insatiable," Crowley teased, yawning again. His eyelids drooped.

"I won't deny it," Aziraphale said, and let Crowley's warmth surround him as the universe shrank to the size of their bedroom.


End file.
